


(No More) Death In Heaven

by littleweepingdalek



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 00:49:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17612285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleweepingdalek/pseuds/littleweepingdalek
Summary: Missy died, and so did the Twelfth Doctor. Yet she wakes up in a strange, new place alongside familiar faces. She's gone. Yet somehow, she is still very much alive.





	(No More) Death In Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually wrote this in December 2017 and then it waited for me to upload it until now, January 2019. My apologies to the past me that thought I'd get here earlier.

Burning pain. Sharp, creeping up her spine, infiltrating every single nerve in her body, resulting in the absolute inability of movement. A few last, precious breaths, thoughts relished and then.. an aching pain in her chest as her right heart stopped moving.

  
Of course it would be that one, ever so fragile. Didn't even have the decency to die simultaneously with the rest of her.

  
Her head rested lightly on the grass, which now resembled more of a crisp blanket.

  
An eerie silence crept through the woods, not even a single bird paying witness.

  
Conclusion: She died.

 

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

 

The Doctor and the Master were arguing. Again.

  
"I tell you, pasta is made like THIS!" Determined, the Doctor demonstrated it by flunging a batch of spaghetti into a pot. A little water splashed over the rim, landing on the Master's shirt.

  
The latter sighed loudly, but not because of that tiny mischief. No, he had grown accustomed to a lot during their time together.

  
"My dear Doctor." It took all his willpower not to eliminate his foe in a battle of angered looks. "What on Gallifrey - and its surrounding universe - makes you think you are more capable of knowing how to make primitive Earthern food than I am?"

  
"Well, for one, I actually lived among them."

  
"It just happens that I did, too. Stangmoor Prison, lovely place."

  
"Ah." The Doctor threw his head back. "And during TV and hypnosis, you devoured books on human culture, then?"

  
"Would that come as a surprise to you? No, I say it has to be done like this!" Imitating the Doctor, he grabbed another packet of spaghetti out of thin air, opened it and delicately placed the straws into a pot. "The secret," he explained, fingers hovering above the stove, "lies in the salt."

  
The Doctor gazed at the coarse, elegantly declining shatters like a intrigued schoolboy.

  
"Hm," was all he could bring forth. That... He vaguely did remember meeting up with the Brigadier after a busy workday at UNIT once (Some invasion or two after he had first encountered the Master on Earth) and maybe, yes, just maybe salt could have been also one of the ingredients Lethbridge-Stewart had used. The Doctor had only partially noticed what exactly happened in the kitchen. At that time, he had been occupied explaining the existence of black holes in space to Jo and Benton, but... there might have been salt involved.

  
Before he could reply anything about how he took the Master's idea with a grain of salt (Pun definitely intended, as he knew it would make him even more mad), there was some clatter.

  
Or rather, a deep, thick thumb surrounding that dark thing that had just fallen onto the orange fields a moment ago.

 

Both turned their heads simultaneously. The Doctor went first, crossing the grasses of the Master's former home to the place in the fields where the noise occured. A stranger? Couldn't be. The dead usually left them in peace, much to their delight.

 

"Do you think-" The Doctor began. The Master nodded, a few steps behind him.

  
Could only be a newcomer. A recently deceased, for some reason appearing here, close to them, meaning their time lines have been greatly entwined. They should probably greet them. Once the stranger knew who lived here, they would be on their way soon enough.

  
They had to strive through the bushes, and when they finally found her, she was only half-awake. Her eyes blinked at the sight of the twin suns, disbelief flickering in the sharp blue of her iris.

  
Two Time Lord heads blocked the sight, leaving a faint shadow on her face. Still, she squinted, trying to make out the figures in front of her, then drawing her head back as if in disbelief.

  
Neither of them said anything. Her hand, streaks of freshly drawn blood across it, found it's way to her back as she slowly sat up a little. She seemed confused, and that was when the Doctor intervened.

  
"Absence of pain?"

  
Slowly, she nodded, turning around and eyeing the country. Her joints cracked and drew her focus back to them.

  
"But there are two handsome boys right in front of me I'm even more worried about." She cocked her head, eyes wandering suspicously between them and the pale sky. "Is this some sort of induced dream..? Rani, if you're out there trying to save my life, stop it, you old hag!"

  
The Master, hands neatly folded behind his back, asked: "So I take that you are not an incarnation of the Rani?" His shoulders slunched down for a moment before adjusting his posture. "How unfortunate. I had hoped for her. Always nice meeting old friends, and with such a beautiful mind too."

  
She coughed, hiding a laugh."Nah, dear, you won't see sensible Time Lords for the rest of your bearded goatee-life.. And now tell me, Doctor over here: Is this a dream or not? Because the only other possible solution would be-"

  
"That this incarnation died and your conscience has been uploaded to the Matrix" they finished her sentence.

  
Oh, sure. was Missy's first thought. Her second was: It feels too real, though. Her bum hurt a little... And the air smelled just like it had when she was a time tot.

  
"These are my father's lands.." she let out, running her fingers over the soft, warm earth, digging her nails deep into the soil. They were. And over there, she could see the old house, just as she'd left it all those lives ago.

  
So this was Death. But it tasted like home.

  
The Doctor chuckled. "No,no, actually they are his father's lands, you see.." he began, stopping as the Master took a step forward, brusquely shoving him away in the process. A faint glimmer in his eyes, he held out his hand.

  
"Mistress."

  
Missy straightened, proudly. She offered her own hand.

  
"What a sharp gentleman, my dearest Master" she remarked.

  
He helped her stand up, which she was certainly capable of doing on her own, now that her injury was gone, but nonetheless it was.. kind.

  
Her thoughts wandered off to her Doctor.

  
Well, if this really was the Matrix, she would not be alone for long.

  
"From where exactly are you?"

  
She barely heard the question, replying ever so scarce with: "Real Gallifreyan Face Number 18, I guess.. The one after the brownish then blondish then eventually sort of greyish round-face. "And you are.. Somewhere in the beginning. And that's the third incarnation of the Doctor."

  
The Doctor raised his eyebrows, grinning and patting the Master on the shoulder. "See? That is a testimony impressive you are. Including your ability to cook pasta. Even your own self can't quite place you."

  
The Master closed the eyes, whilst Missy answered: "Pasta? I learned how to make that at.. dear, the plastics factory, wasn't it? Someone had left this book about Italian cuisine.. Salt and vinegar and basil."

  
The Master smiled triumphantly, yet remained silent. The Doctor looked down on him, rolled his eyes and scoffed.

  
Missy regarded them. Her past. Hers and the Doctor‘s. Back in the good old days when they weren't young anymore - and still so far from adulthood.

  
Arm in arm, the three of them returned to the cottage in the middle of the fields. Pasta cooked on the stove. The Doctor, waggling his hand through the air, dismissed his own failed attempt at culinary exquisity. Missy raised an eyebrow at the sight of it.

  
This was pathetic. Just the cottage, some shelves, a rather comfy bed (well, if you like linen on chunks of straw, that is) and a table.

  
"So, what exactly is it you are doing in the afterlife, my loves?" She leant against a wall, looking out of the only window in the room.

  
Yes, she was really getting sentimental.

  
The Master shrugged. "Enjoying it."

  
The Doctor sat back in a rocking chair, moving forwards and backwards. He sighed, eyes glittering a little as he mustered Missy. Instead of giving a satisfactory answer himself, he replied with another question. Regarding her lifetime.

  
"So, are you able to perchance tell me my wherabouts in the future?", he inquired.

  
It was not his fault that a shiver went down her spine. She brushed it off, nodding simply. "Yeah." She walked around in the tiny room, strolling from the wall to the chair, to the oven.. until she felt comfortable enough to simply sit down on top of a counter. Searching for a comfortable spot, she let her feet dangle and leaned her elbows on her legs.

 

The Master now also turned. "Not dead, then?"

  
Missy giggled a little. "Oh, that was never our intention, was it? No.. The Doctor and I, we were.. on a spaceship parked next to a black hole."

  
Originally, she did not want to go into further detail, but now that she talked, it felt.. good. Relieving. Joyful to know that there were some other people she could share her story with. Even if it was just her own self and a younger Doctor.

  
"It was amazing, well, the beginning. We played a little game, you know.."

  
She paused. "No. It wasn't a game. It was serious. We were there, and two of his friends. One friend died and.. well, there was a wee bit of drama. Turns out I meet my younger self – your future - and in him I can see. See everything I despise now. The.. cruelty of it all."

  
She didn't care about the fact that her voice was beginning to break.

  
"Well, I get it now. I get what you wanted to tell me all those years ago. And I.. I hope I did it right. In the face of betrayal, he still stood his ground. Armed with nothing but words."

  
Her eyes met the Doctor's. "I will never forget them, you know."

  
The Doctor didn't reply.

  
It didn't matter to her. For all she knew, this Doctor, this young, hopeful, optimistic dreamer dressed up like a mixture of the Queen's favourite special agent and a colourful dandy.. He was not hers. There was another version of her, younger, less wise and perhaps a bit more cynical, testing whether the pasta was good or not.

  
They belonged together. Here on Gallifrey, in their own ancestral home. Theirs was the place of rest, of feeling home, of arguing over pasta. For eternity. For ever, until some Time Lord in the future pulls the plug on the Matrix for the final time.  
It made Missy wonder once more.

  
"Do you think he'll be here, too?" She asked them, gesturing her head vaguely into different directions of the room.

  
The Master allowed a soft smile. "I don't see why not."

  
"We didn't exactly end on good terms. Maybe.. maybe he knew it, maybe he didn't. Perhaps he will appear in the Matrix but not here."

  
The Doctor, letting out a deep and heartfelt sigh, heaved himself up and walked across the room. Wishing an ornate plate into his hand, he quickly raised a mountain of pasta, added a bit of sauce and handed it over to Missy, hand softly brushing against the skin on her arm for a moment.

  
"Dearest, if I have learned a single thing in here, it's that eternity is only worth living when experienced with those you love fondest. And if all we do is dance in circles until the suns set on this place, it shall be my pleasure."

 

  
\-----------------------------------------

 

 

He was badly bruised, barely in a condition that seemed fit. But even as she watched, the scars began to fade, and his chest began to tremble. He shook, then, and let out a few violent coughs, sprouting him back to life.

  
Or rather, finishing the process of introducing his full conscience to the Matrix.

  
She knelt down next to him and patted his cheek.

  
"Doctor?"

  
A groan. Lazily, he opened his eyes. "I.. I regenerated.." He whispered coarsely.

  
Missy managed a smile. "Surely. Are you alright?"

  
"Of course."

  
A frown deepened the crease between his brows. "But how are you here? Isn't this the Matrix? Have I not regenerated?"

  
"You have."

  
"Have you, too?"

 

Missy nodded. "Yeah, silly. Of course I did."

  
It was a frail answer. Meek, and ultimately doomed. Even her past self noticed that pathetic attempt at lying.

  
Missy closed her eyes. Then shrugged. "No, I didn't. I tried to get back to you, you know.. Sucks that I failed.. Oh, don't give me that look! Your next incarnation will have a wild time once I'm back. And you can bet on that, dear. Can't have you let all the fun in the universe alone. I'm only dead for as long as it suits me!"

  
The Doctor nodded slightly. "Like a phoenix."

  
"An honest man would have said 'cockroach', but I do love your euphemisms."

  
"Well, you two are allowed to live here," the Doctor offered.

  
"You are allowed to come visit, he means." The Master corrected.

  
The future Doctor chuckled. "It's fine. I already know this place. Sweet memories of childhood.. I'm in for something new." His gaze reached across the horizon. "What do you think, Missy? Maybe beyond the fields.. We could also construct something. Entirely new. No one batters an eye in here. Not at us, at least."

  
Missy cocked her head. "Do you have something in mind?"

  
"It is silly.. You wouldn't like it."

 

"Idiot."

  
"Saint Paul's Cathedral."

  
Missy thought about it for a brief moment, before chiming into the chuckling.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know that much about the Matrix but in my mind that's where good Time Lord incanations live happily ever after. Please don't throw stones at me.


End file.
